


A Quiet Interlude

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Black Sails
Genre: Cunnilingus, Emotional Sex, F/M, Loss, Oral Sex, Past Relationship(s), Revenge Plans, all the feelings, quiet moments, thoughts of Thomas, wallowing in emotional pain, wrapped up in some sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-10
Updated: 2018-07-10
Packaged: 2019-06-08 08:57:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15239895
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: The past will always be there, but they still have each other at least. Flint & Miranda cling to each other in the shadows of Nassau.





	A Quiet Interlude

 

He lies down between her thighs, kissing them. Miranda spreads her legs wide, giving a good view of her underclothes. A sight he has seen before, yes, but there’s still an undercurrent of excitement every time since the first time.

Flint kisses his way up her left thigh and presses his mouth against the slit in her drawers. He can smell her scent, practically taste her already. Sometimes he’s astounded by how she can still be aroused by anything, how she can still want him now.  Here. The island hangs about them like a shroud, the waves lapping against the beach. There is no escaping this haven they’ve made for themselves, this is the only place they have left in the world. But after London it is an accursed paradise, nowhere is safe. Nowhere is where Flint wants to be. A gray void where nothing aches, but all the same he welcomes the pain. He doesn’t want to forget, he doesn’t want to let go. There is no forgiveness, there is no forgetting.

A soft sigh above him draws his attention back to the present and he looks up. In spite of the past, haunting and present, he is drawn to her, he wants her. He can give her this at least. It is not enough, but it never was. He knows it never will be.

Miranda rests her hands above her heads, her eyes are closed, one of her hands reaches down to curl through his hair. He kisses her through her drawers and then parts them at the slit to reach her. He licks right across her cunt, tasting her. He spans his hands on her thighs as he licks her gently, making her tremble. The curls here are sweet, tickling his nose and he almost wants to laugh.

Miranda murmurs something soft, catching her lip between her teeth as she arches her back. Her breasts rise high, and he moves upward a moment to kiss them, hungrily. His tongue dips over each nipple, savoring them, the way they immediately respond to his touch. He squeezes her right breast in his hand as he kisses his way back down between her legs. He eases her thighs over his shoulders and returns to her.

 

*  *  *

 

Miranda is always so strong, so fiercely unapologetic, so full of life.  Over time he has watched her transform slowly into a woman running her own household, figuring out the ways of life on Nassau. Her garden grows and they drink wine sometimes underneath the cherry palm trees in the shade. There is an element of peace, but Flint’s always restless, always half ready to get back to the Walrus, back to the life he has carved out for himself upon the seas. He tells himself it’s because of the search, their mutual revenge, but in his heart he knows it’s easier to bear the loss away from the constant reminders. The clear absence in Miranda’s home where there should have been a third presence.

There is always their loss between them, but there are times when Flint is caught up in merely her. Miranda is here. Miranda is alive and when he has her in his arms, he can hardly bear to let her go again in case something happens. If he were to lose Miranda, he doesn’t know what he would do. He touches her, his fingers slow and pressing between her legs, urging her towards completion, needing this as much as her. To know that he can touch her and reassure himself that she is still here with him, that he’s not alone in the void that tempts him.

Miranda rises upward, her thighs squeezing his shoulders as she nears orgasm. Her fingers tighten in his hair, her breasts peaking high as her back arches. A sharp cry escapes her and Flint simply keeps going. He knows the second one relaxes her, and will help her sleep. Her juice drips across his tongue. He carries the taste of her for days afterward.

Miranda stills against the bed, panting upon the pillows, and finally he raises his head from between her thighs, meeting her gaze.

Miranda looks at him fondly, though there is something quiet, something unspoken in her eyes. “I’ve made a mess of you.” She whispers, reaching down to wipe his lip with her thumb.

Flint catches her hand and kisses the inside of her wrist, feeling her pulse against his lips. She’s alive, he’s made certain of that tonight. She is here. He is not alone.

He lies there, holding Miranda against him, listening to the sound of her breathing. He strokes her cheek and whispers things he finds it hard to say when they’re awake together _. I love you more than I can say, but every day is another agonizing breath, reminding me of him. You remind me of him, of those early days, and the way it was. I dream of London, lying in that big bed, and I wake weeping but you already know that, Miranda. There is no need to say this aloud. What good will it do? You know this as well as I._

How hard is it to say those words to her? They both know the loss they carry together. He has to keep his mind focused. One of these days they will find Alfred Hamilton and make him pay. It’s all he can think about. Every waking hour stalking the decks, every sleepless night in his bunk aboard his ship. He made himself captain of a goddamn ship, waiting and plotting and every day, without blood running down his blade is simply another waste of breath.

But times like these, lying upon Miranda’s bed, it’s theirs, he knows this, but he always thinks about it as Miranda’s bed. He comes to Miranda’s bed and she welcomes him. They lie together, and for a little while, there is something else to focus on. This small peace between them. This is all they have. A small peace and a brutal vengeance.

He kisses her hand, and closes his eyes.


End file.
